Misplaced
by Audio Pineapple
Summary: Rabid Desperation [season two]
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters and I am not affiliated in any way, shape or form with anyone who does.

**A/N: **This is a four piece story. It is all written so I'll update it once a day.

Locke trod lightly through the jungle, not sure where he was going. Yet again he felt as though he was being led somewhere and he was pinning his hopes that it was the island communicating with him, leading him along to his higher purpose. But until he found it, he would continue to follow his instincts, now quarter of an hour away from the beach.

A moment later he found what he was looking for. The feeling of needing to obey had dissolved slightly, letting him take in the scene in front of him.

Charlie was lying in front of him, eyes half-lidded, not focused. A large back-pack, so filled with statues of the Virgin Mary that the top could not be zipped, one of them smashed next to him, powder spilled out of the bags, fallen onto the ground.

"What are you doing Charlie?"

Charlie's head turned slowly as his eyes opened the slightest amount more, "none of your business."

Locke knelt down and traced one finger through the dirt and the heroin, melding them further together as he avoided looking at Charlie. He found it hard to cope with what had happened; found it hard to believe that, after all he had done to try to fix Charlie, that he was un-fixable. Every single time that any progress was made, he returned to his stash.

"It's fighting a losing battle," Locke muttered the words to himself, unsure whether he was referring to Charlie's attempts to remain sober or his own to attempt to force the sobriety onto Charlie.

"What the hell does that mean?"

He didn't think that Charlie had heard what he had said; the anger in his tone was becoming common placed and Locke attempted to counter it with mellow tones, knowing that the sadness was seeping through.

"Nothing, it means nothing."

"Tell me what you were saying about me!" Charlie struggled to get up but gave up a couple of seconds later, apparently taking too much hassle. Instead he tugged on one of the bags, not realising that it was already open and the final remains of the heroin tumbled out. He swore and fished into his rucksack, trying to find another but Locke jerked it away, failing to notice the flash of hatred that speared Charlie's eyes. "Give me my drugs back!"

"No." As the days on the island continued to tick past, Locke had found himself becoming more resigned by the moment that he was to be hated, ignored and detested by his fellow survivors. It didn't seem to matter then, that he was taking away Charlie's supply again. It was better to be hated sooner whilst doing good deeds, rather than just wait for the inevitable and try to stave it off with token conversations with anyone who would part with so much as the time towards him. He left the bag for a moment, standing and scuffing against the ground with the toes of his shoe, trying to destroy what little was left there of Charlie's addiction. He was about to reclaim the bag when he noticed that it was now sitting in Charlie's lap.

"You had no right to do that…"

"I had every right to do that. I am trying to make you better."

"…And you had no right to take her…"

"Take who?" At this he was genuinely confused. He was aware of Charlie's objections to his friendship with Claire but that had ended long ago.

"…Do you think…" Charlie paused as he reached inside the bag. The statues situated about his hand shifted as he drew out his prize. He left it hidden before asking his question, "do you think that you are a good person John?"

"Yes."

In an instant Locke regretted his answer. Charlie retrieved his prize and smiled at it for just a second, not enough time for Locke to react before he heard a few loud cracks break through the air, felt the impact against his stomach and chest and tried to flee from the darkness that enveloped him. Then there was nothing, and he didn't even feel as his body fell onto the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

Sayid's body froze as he heard the sound, and for a moment he wondered if his brain had frozen as well. He was trapped by the memories of the last time he had heard the sound, of losing Shannon. His hands fisted by his sides as the anger released his body from its stationary position and he began to run towards the site of the noise.

The first thing that registered with him was that the taste of copper filled his mouth, the air easily carrying the scent of blood. With one final push he was through the barrier of trees and staring wide-eyed at the scene in front of him. Locke's body was strewn across the floor, blood seeping from various holes in his torso, mingling with the dirt and the heroin.

It wasn't until he noticed the heroin that Sayid saw Charlie was sitting only a couple of feet away, a serene expression on his face, casually holding the gun in his hand.

He turned on his heels, running back to the beach as fast as he could, not caring when everybody stared at him as he cried Jack's name, or when he physically dragged him into the jungle.

But it was too late. Jack stood up from the body, shaking his head.

The anger once again flooded against Sayid as he ran forwards, slamming into Charlie, pinning him against the ground as he began to beat him. Charlie cried out in pain, only succeeding in causing the blows to be more violent. He felt arms grabbing onto him, dragging him away and he kicked out, trying to break free.

"Let me go!"

Charlie was cowering against one of the trees, blood trickling from cuts across his cheek and chin as Jack struggled to keep hold of Sayid.

"Leave him alone…"

"He killed Locke! He needs to pay for what he has done!" Another kick, this one connecting with Jack's knee almost broke him free, but caused Jack to tighten his grip until he was too confined to lash out.

"He will pay… Sayid!" Jack tried to gather his attention which was still focused upon Charlie, who was cowering less and now stroking the head of one of the statues, "he will pay, I promise."

Sayid relaxed his body slightly and Jack released him. Fighting the desire to attack Charlie again, he tore some vines loose from the vegetation and grabbed Charlie, forcing his arms behind him and tying him securely.

"Get up." Charlie did not respond, just stared at Sayid as though he was trying to work out what he was saying. "I said get up!" He grabbed Charlie's shirt, yanking him upright as Jack called out in protest. "He is not staying here. He is under arrest and is going back to the beach."

Sayid began to push Charlie in the right direction, Jack trotting along behind him. The whole camp watched when they entered the beach, immediately taking in the view of a bleeding Charlie, captured by Sayid and Jack, blood across his hands from where he had checked Locke's wounds.

Jack stepped forwards to the group as Sayid forced Charlie over to a tree, tying him in place. "We think that Charlie was on drugs this afternoon. He had a gun that nobody knew about and he shot Locke. He's dead and his body is still in the jungle. Charlie is under arrest so that he can not harm anyone else."

Jack's words confused Sayid for a moment; it had not been the reason that he had arrested Charlie. It had been so that he could be punished for committing murder. This was pushed to the back of his mind when he heard people breathing sighs of relief. Looking around he noticed that the fear had been removed from their faces, sorrow or grief only apparent on a couple of people. Sayid was instantly hit by a revelation that he did not want to believe.

Nobody cared that Locke was dead.


	3. Chapter 3

Sayid sat on the sand, watching Charlie casually sleeping. He'd fallen asleep over an hour earlier, without even acknowledging what had happened. Jack had said that he would regret his actions when he was sober but Sayid was not so sure; he had seen Charlie's animosity towards Locke on the past few days.

"Guess you get to break out that trusty torture kit Ali."

Sayid looked behind him and saw Sawyer standing there. He turned away, focusing on Charlie again and Sawyer chuckled. "I am not going to torture him. He deserves a fair trial."

"You sound like the Doc. When he isn't after me that is…"

"I have apologised for that," Sayid was feeling tired, he didn't want Sawyer to be bothering him. He heard Sawyer start to walk away, "nobody cares."

"What? That I was tortured?"

"That Locke is dead."

"They care…"

"It has been over an hour and a half and his body is still lying in the jungle," he tried to keep his voice calm, not managing to do so effectively. "They abandoned him."

"Don't see you going in there."

"I have to watch Charlie. I have to make sure that he does not escape."

"Well you tied him so tight to that tree I'm surprised his damn hands haven't fallen off. Anyway, that's not why you're here."

"What is not why I am here?"

"You don't want to hurt Charlie for killing Locke."

"Yes I do." Sawyer shook his head, leaving Sayid still watching Charlie. He remained in his place, thinking about what Sawyer had said. He could not understand what Sawyer was saying; he wanted revenge because Charlie had committed a brutal murder.

"Hey," Jack sat down next to him, watching Charlie stir in his sleep, "he'll be awake soon." He paused, not finding a reaction from Sayid. "What do you think his punishment should be?"

"He should be executed," Sayid looked towards Jack who appeared shocked.

"That's a bit harsh."

"If Locke had been the one who murdered Charlie then you would be supporting the death penalty."

"I wouldn't."

Sayid wanted to argue but he knew that he was too tired to adequately defend his claim; he had barely slept since Shannon had been killed. Now instead of the voices that haunted him in his sleep he would see her face, feel her body collapsing against him. He closed his eyes to try to block out the pain when he heard Jack speak again.

"You should get some rest."

"I need to watch Charlie."

"He's tied up tight enough, he isn't getting anywhere…"

"I need to watch Charlie!"

Jack walked away and Sayid stayed in his place, finding it harder and harder to remain awake. Eventually his tiredness got the better of him and he lay down on the sand, closing his eyes.

But when he woke up, Charlie had disappeared.


	4. Chapter 4

Sayid blinked, rubbing at his eyes and wondering if he had imagined that Charlie was missing but once he removed his hands he could see that he had gone, the vines and ropes left lying on the floor. He stood up, spotting Jack by the water bottles and quickly walking over to him. If Charlie had managed to run away they needed to catch him again soon before he did anymore damage.

"Charlie has escaped. We need to mount a search party and…" he noticed that Jack was looking away from him, "what is it?"

"He didn't escape. I let him go."

"What do you mean, you let him go?" Sayid felt as though he had physically been punched, not sure how to react to the statement.

"It wasn't just me… we… the whole…" he paused for a moment, trying to work out how to continue, "the whole lost community decided that he needed to be freed."

"He is a murderer!"

"We can't hold people to trial, it just isn't practical. Charlie didn't mean to shoot Locke."

"Well where was I?"

"What?"

"You said that the community decided to release him. Whilst I was asleep. Why was I not consulted? Because you knew that for once I would not blindly follow your lead and would vote in favour of justice?" Jack remained silent and Sayid felt the anger once again building inside of him and knew that he would have to leave before he retaliated against Jack, "I thought as much."

He stormed off to his tent, trying to relax but finding it impossible knowing that Charlie was on the beach as well. At one moment he was sure that he heard him laughing, joking alongside Aaron and it only succeeded in making his mood worse. He knew that he had done terrible things in his own life, and they haunted him and he would not have protested any punishment that had been given to him but this seemed different. They were such a small collection of people and Charlie sounded as though he would not be regretting his decision.

He sighed as he made his way to the funeral, surprised for a moment to see that all the survivors had turned up before he realised why they were there. They had only come to participate in the collective sense of morning; that and they were scared of what sort of person they would be if they did not at least try to force themselves to mourn the death of one of their own. Sawyer was standing amongst them and Sayid found himself remembering what he had said earlier. After the brief service he decided to question him.

"What did you mean earlier? When you said I did not want to punish Charlie because he hurt Locke?"

Sawyer casually looked up from his magazine; "exactly what I said. You don't care that Locke is dead anymore than the rest of them do…"

"Of course I care. I was the only one who wanted Charlie to pay!"

"Misplaced anger… you want to punish someone for sweet little Shannon's death. 'Specially as you can't attack Ana over there."

"I cared about Locke. I did."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night," Sawyer shifted his focus back to his magazine.

"I did."

"You ever talk to him?"

"What?"

"Ever have a conversation with him?"

"No…" Sawyer chuckled, turning the page. "That does not mean that I did not care about him."

He began to walk away and his eyes drifted towards the collection of graves, feeling his longing for Shannon increase. He tried to push it away, trying to force himself into believing that Sawyer was wrong about his motives.

Even though he knew that he had never cared about Locke when he was alive.


End file.
